I'm Your Captain
by Imrryr
Summary: It has been nearly a decade since she last captained a ship.  Now, with the need to evacuate Kirkwall in a hurry, Isabela wonders if she still has what it takes to lead. One-shot, FemHawke/Isabela.


AN – The title of this story is a nod to the song "I'm Your Captain" by Grand Funk Railroad, which is what inspired me to write this. Hopefully, that revelation doesn't make me sound like I'm a thousand years old. ^^

Dragon Age II is the property of EA and Bioware.

Rated T for violence, appalling language, and terrible puns.

Also, this is my first completed fanfic. *hides*

* * *

><p>x<p>

Dragon Age II

"I'm Your Captain" by Imrryr

x

(The Gallows of Kirkwall)

It took every last ounce of strength she had left, but Aerin Hawke somehow managed to walk out of the Gallows unassisted. With Isabela at her side, and the rest of the party following along somewhere behind them, she waited until she had descended to the foot of the long flight of stairs leading back to the Tower, looked behind her to be sure that she was out of sight of Captain Cullen and the remaining templars, and then promptly fell to the ground in exhaustion.

Isabela, who had been watching the woman warily the entire time, caught her just in time to keep the Champion of what was left of Kirkwall from planting her face in the cold hard paving stones.

"Always playing the hero, aren't you?" Isabela muttered as she struggled to raise Aerin back to her feet.

"It's what I do..." Hawke replied wearily, her usual sense of humor still managing to show through her exhaustion. But the hero's smirk quickly turned into a wince when she brushed aside the pirate's aid and tried to stand on her own two feet again.

She took another couple of steps, and then once again Isabela had to stop her from falling.

The pirate sighed as she struggled to lift the woman back up. Despite what Aveline might think, she wasn't stupid, and it was obvious that Hawke was in a lot more pain than she was letting on. Now, Isabela could write an entire book on the importance of letting no one see your weaknesses, but _really_, this was ridiculous, she thought. Hawke had saved this bloody city at least five times over by now, would it destroy her reputation to admit that she had finally had enough?

And still she was trying to push her off! Sweat was dripping down the Champion's face as she struggled weakly in the pirate's grasp. Hawke looked about to pass out. There was no way she was going to get her to the docks at this rate; she could barely keep the woman standing as it was.

And she sure as hell wasn't making it any easier on her.

"Maker! Will you stop squirming already? This hero act of yours isn't impressing anyone anymore."

Hawke let out a sigh that was decidedly petulant in nature, but she finally relaxed in the woman's arms. Out of the corner of her eye Isabela could see the slightest hint of a pout forming on the Champion's lips.

She laughed softly, and gently patted the warrior's head. Not _too_ hard though, the poor woman had cuts and bruises all over her pretty face. "Good girl..."

And, of course, she was lying about the hero thing. If anything, the pirate had felt her admiration grow with every passing second she spent in Hawke's company today. The way she took charge of even the most chaotic of situations, she really should've been Commander of a fleet of warships or something.

Unfortunately, being from Lothering, Hawke couldn't tell you the difference between a forecastle and a poop deck. It was sad, really.

That, however, was all about to change. Meredith and Orsino had been dealt with and Isabela's ship was finally ready. Outfitted with pristine white canvas for the sails, and a brilliant new silverite ram, it was truly a thing of beauty. And with nothing now keeping them here, she and Hawke were going to sail the wide open seas, with no complicated city politics to deal with, and no petitioners coming to Hawke for help at all hours of the day and night.

She was sure that, with a little tutoring, Hawke would excel as a ship captain, like she already excelled at practically everything else in life. Aerin Hawke would look all beautiful and terrifying, swinging through the rigging with a sword in her hand, shouting commands over the melee. It would be glorious.

And the sex afterwards? _Even more glorious. _

_If such a thing were even possible._

"Not tonight Bela, I'm tired..." the Champion whimpered as she weakly tried to pull the pirate closer to her.

Isabela felt her cheeks heat up and suddenly she was very grateful that it was so dark out here. Was Aerin reading her dirty thoughts somehow?

"Uh... you still with me there, Hawke?" She asked quietly. Fortunately, the others had given them some space. Could they sense Isabela's need for a private moment with her woman? _No,_ it was much more likely that they were simply waiting for Aerin to tell them what to do next.

It took a few moments, but eventually Aerin sleepily replied, "Yeah... still here... tired though."

_At least now you're admitting it_, she thought. "I know, I know. Listen, Hawke, do you trust me?"

The woman in her arms sighed again, and then Isabela felt a faintest hint of a kiss on her neck. It was incredible how even something as small as that was enough to make the hairs on her neck stand up. "Of course, Bela."

_Bela..._ the pirate was forced to smile at that. If anyone else had ever called her by that name, she'd smack them. It was just another one of those things that proved to her that she _was_ truly, deeply, and _stupidly,_ in love with this woman.

Still, it made sense, she rationalized. If Isabela was the greatest pirate to ever sail the Waking Sea, and her self-image would settle for nothing less, then why shouldn't she end up stealing the heart, and body, of the Champion of Kirkwall, the greatest hero in the Free Marches? _That_ was a prize that was really worth fighting for...

An Orlesian treasure fleet had nothing on her.

So of course, since Isabela was the greatest pirate, it was only natural she should have Hawke, right? _Right, _she answered in her head. And that was the sort of thing she frequently told herself in order to satisfy the Old Isabela, even though the reality of the situation was quite different.

Sadly, the truth of the matter was that Hawke held Isabela's heart in the palm of her hand. If the warrior squeezed, it would break the pirate more completely than any powerful storm or jagged reef could break a ship.

There were so many ways it could all go wrong, and while those possibilities terrified her, she wouldn't give the woman up. The reward, a life alongside the Champion, was too good to pass up.

Aerin sighed and rested her head on Isabela's shoulder while the pirate slowly stroked her short dark hair with her free hand. Fortunately, Hawke didn't have it in her to string Isabela along and break her heart. She was too damn kind-hearted and honest for that. Six years at her side had proven that beyond doubt.

It really made her wonder, why hadn't anyone else stolen this woman's heart yet?

She smiled to herself, as far as she was concerned, the fact that every single man and woman in the city failed to seduce the Champion except her, made Isabela feel pretty damn good about herself.

Varric's laughter would bring down the house if he heard that. "Yeah, that's just what you need," he'd say, "an ego boost."

Isabela grunted, Aerin was beginning to slip in her arms. _Maker, but Hawke was heavy. It must be all that armor..._

"Allow me..." came a voice from behind them. It was Aveline.

Without another word, the Guard Captain unceremoniously dropped her shield on the ground with a loud bang and swiftly lifted Hawke into a fireman's carry over her back. _Blimy, that woman was strong. Donnic must enjoy that_, the pirate couldn't help but think, though she managed to keep herself from saying it. She was bloody tired as it was, and there was no time to trade insults with Lady Man-Hands. There was still so much to do tonight...

She lifted Hawke's head off the Guard-Captain's shoulder and was satisfied that the woman was still breathing.

"Is she all right?" Came another, weaker voice from behind. Bethany this time.

"I think so," the pirate replied, as she looked Aerin over. "I don't suppose you know any magic tricks that can cure exhaustion?" She asked, half-seriously, while her fingers trailed along the cheek of her sleeping hero. She would never act this intimate with Hawke in public, unless she was good and drunk first, but at this moment she was much too tired to care if the whole world saw that she loved this girl.

"If I could do that, I'd heal myself first..." Bethany replied wearily.

Isabela knew the feeling. Turning to Aveline, she asked, "Can you carry her far?"

The red head nodded. "As far as you like."

_Remind me to buy her a drink sometime_, the pirate told herself. "Good. Listen, we're getting out of here. I want to you to take her to my ship, I'm going to dash over to Lowtown and try to find some sailors who are looking for work..." an explosion sounded off in the distance, the fire in the Tower was spreading... "I'd imagine there are at least a few men who would be interested in leaving town just now."

Aveline nodded again in assent, and Isabela lowered her mouth to Hawke's ear.

"Remember what you promised, Champion," she whispered, before kissing the woman's cheek and dashing off for the lower city.

Aveline stared wide-eyed at the retreating pirate. She was so weary it took her a few moments to realize that Isabela was speaking to Hawke and not herself. Strangely, she felt a little ashamed for all the harsh things she had ever said to the woman, even if she deserved every single one of them...

Then the warrior sighed as her thoughts returned to the matter at hand. "Ugh... I should've asked her exactly where it was. Ships all look the same to me," she said aloud.

"I know the way," Fenris said wearily as he moved into the woman's line of sight. "Follow me."

* * *

><p>(One Hour Later)<p>

Despite the time constraints, assembling a crew turned out to be easier than she expected it would be. As an experienced sailor, her old friend Martin knew a sinking ship when he saw one; and in this case, the sinking ship was the city of Kirkwall. It didn't take much to convince the man that he would be better off sailing with Isabela and the Champion than he would be staying in Kirkwall waiting for the revenge seeking Orlesians to show up. Especially after the pirate took a look around his "office" and noted just how many stolen shipping containers he had stored there. And every last one of them stamped with the Orlesian port authority seal.

That was what really lit a fire under his ass.

Now, she wouldn't exactly trust Martin with her life, but the guy had a knack for reading people, and for picking out the good and loyal sailors from the incompetents and the sea lawyers. So, she felt confident enough that he would find the best Kirkwall had to offer on such short notice. They would definitely be short-handed for a while, but even a crew of twenty or thirty sailors would be enough to get them out of this place at least.

So, after paying a rather hefty price for some last minute items for the crew (salted pork rations, flour, and most importantly: rum), Isabela inexplicably found herself running in completely the opposite direction of the docks.

Just as she was leaving the Hanged Man she suddenly had a thought, and try as she might to come up with a valid reason to ignore it, she couldn't. Irritatingly, she realized it was the same kind of thought she had three years ago when she was running from the Qunari.

It was that damn nagging conscience of hers again. It was the only possible excuse to explain why she was running through the deserted streets of Hightown in the middle of the night, heading straight for the front door of Hawke's estate.

"Shit. Shit. Shit!"

Isabela cursed at herself as she ran through those dark lamp-lit streets. She had no idea why she was doing what she was doing, but she was determined to do it anyway.

Surprisingly, despite the time of night, the streets weren't deserted; there were still people evacuating, but since this was Hightown, they did so with a train of servants carrying their priceless belongings, while the homeowners watched. Fortunately, nobles and servants alike gave the pirate a wide berth.

And to be honest, she knew why she was running like a mad woman straight for Aerin's home; she just didn't want to think about it. She was a pirate, dammit! How dare this upstart conscience of hers tell her what to do?

_How about an inner voice that tells you, "Hey, you need to go have a drink at the Hanged Man!" and then it makes you feel sad when you don't do so. _That_ would be more useful__..._

But every time she thought about turning around and running back to her ship, she would see the disappointed face of Aerin Hawke in her mind, complete with pouting lips, and those sad blue eyes.

Yeah, it was _exactly_ like when she ran from the Qunari.

The look of disappointment on Hawke's face when Isabela explained that _she alone_ was the reason the Quanari were still in Kirkwall? Until that moment, she could safely say that nothing she had done had ever haunted her. She was _not_ one to have regrets. But after that moment, everything changed.

"Maker, what the fuck am I doing?" she asked herself again as she ran, blowing past another family that looked like they were packing up half the town, judging by how much luggage they were piling outside their home.

But Isabela knew what she was doing. She was going try her hardest to protect the Champion from any more pain. She was going to take care of Hawke for a change. She was going to take charge, and Hawke was going to be proud of her...

* * *

><p>(Two Hours Ago, in the Circle Tower)<p>

tap. tap. tap.

Tap! Tap! Tap!

...

Thump!

"Oww..." Aerin Hawke moaned pitifully as she slid down against the enormous wooden door and collapsed into a heap at its foot.

"Hawke!" Isabela shouted as she rounded the corner and jogged over to the fallen Champion. The woman's face was pained as she rubbed her shoulder, and at first the pirate was really worried, but she became increasingly amused as the situation became clearer. "Excuse the dumb question, but are you all right?"

"I'm _fine_," the Champion grumbled, shooting a angry glance at the door.

"Uh huh," the pirate said, Looking from Hawke to the door, and then back again. "Did this mean old door attack you?"

The Champion sighed. "Bethany said that this was one of the rooms for the mage children. I wanted to see if they were ok."

Isabela tilted her head, she didn't understand the problem, "So... did you try knocking?"

Hawke's eyes narrowed at that. "_Yes_, I even announced who I was," she said, finally. "There was no answer."

"Sometimes that's a sign that there's no one home."

The Champion grunted at Isabela's relentless sarcasm. "Perhaps, but what if the other mages ordered the children not to answer the door? They could still be in there." Considering the Tower was now on fire, that could be a very bad thing indeed.

"I suppose that's possible. But there are easier ways to open doors, you know." She held up her hands and wiggled her fingers. "Allow the master to show you how it's done..."

Hawke would have crossed her arms in order to look sufficiently unimpressed, but her shoulder hurt too much.

She settled for rolling her eyes.

When the pirate stepped in front of the lock and examined it, Aerin expected for her to work some kind of magic involving long metal picks, or however it was that rogues usually opened locks. Instead, Isabela paused for dramatic effect, then swiftly fished out a key from the little pouch she always carried. She pushed it into the keyhole, turned it, and the lock opened instantly.

"Wait a damn minute! Where did you get that?"

"Dead templar."

"Oh..." Aerin said, pouting a little. "Why didn't I think of that?"

That earned a smirk from the rogue. "Too many knocks to the head." She ruffled the Champion's hair. "You wait here and rest for a moment," she said, kneeling down to give Aerin a quick peck on the forehead, "And I'll just take a quick look inside."

Hawke nodded while rubbing her shoulder again as the pirate slipped through the opened door. Once through the opening Isabela found herself looking down a well lit hallway lined with bookcases on either side, all rather sparsely populated with books. What few books she did see were all on simple magical subjects, like the summoning of rainbows, and the proper way to converse with turtles.

The titles may have brought the slightest of smiles to the pirate's face, but it was hard to mistake this place for anything other than a prison. All the windows were barred and above eye level even for a woman as tall as she was. She couldn't imagine what it must be like to actually have to _live_ in a place like this. It felt almost like a tomb, like the ones old Tevinter Magisters were buried in.

Not that she knew anything about tomb robbing, of course...

Stamping down on those thoughts, Isabela continued down the corridor until she noticed an opening to her right, what she assumed to have once been a reading room. Now there were a number of upended tables blocking the way, signs of a makeshift barricade.

Several of the tables had been shattered, and here and there were the telltale marks of sword thrusts as well as scorch marks which presumably had come from magic fireballs. She stepped over the body of a dead templar, and made her way through the forced opening. Two elderly mages lay dead in a pool of blood on the floor, and then Isabela looked further on and stopped in her tracks. Inside the reading room were the bodies of more than a dozen young mages, children really, all piled on top of each other and stuffed in the far corner of the room.

She didn't need all her years of experience to tell her that the wounds around their necks were not done by any mage. These children hadn't been killed in the heat of battle, _they had been executed after it_.

_What kind of person... _Actually, scratch that, she knew exactly what kind of person would do something like this. But that didn't make the sight before her any less horrifying.

Isabela stumbled backwards out from the opening until she collided with a table, sending it, and the few books on top of it, onto the floor in the process.

Hawke called out from the door. She had opened it all the way and was staring at the pirate. "Isabela? What is it?" she asked worriedly as she moved to stand up.

The pirate's eyes grew wide. She tried to look calm, but had forgotten how to. "Hawke! Don't come in here."

Of course, when Hawke saw Isabela's expression, the pirate knew it was too late to stop her.

* * *

><p>(The Present, On The Streets of Hightown)<p>

"Fuck the fucked up people in this fucking city," Isabela muttered as the memories of what she had seen today replayed themselves in her head. Yeah, she didn't mean _everyone_ in the city, but she could just picture those templars going home to their families tonight. "Oh, what did you do today, dear?" "I butchered twelve children, but it's o.k., you see, they were mages!" "Oh, that's nice, dear. Would you care for some tea?"

And yet, it was the mages who everyone feared, not the men and women that kept them locked up day after day, and who wouldn't hesitate to kill children if ordered to do so.

"Fuck!" she shouted, and a scandalized looking woman clapped her hands over her son's ears as the pirate ran past.

Isabela was determined. She was going to do whatever it took to erase the memory of today from Hawke's mind. They were going to leave Kirkwall forever, and the pirate was going to do everything in her power to ensure that from now on Hawke's life was an exciting one filled with adventure. A life where the woman would hopefully quickly forget everything she had seen today.

It was going to be a life of adventure on the high seas by day, and fantastic sex by night.

Hawke deserved no less.

The pirate was so distracted by her unvoiced argument with herself that she nearly collided with a guardsman who was standing in front of the door to Hawke's estate.

"Shit! Sorry!" the pirate said as she stopped in her tracks.

Strangely, the voice behind that plate helmet was unusually light and decididly feminine. "Isabela?" it asked.

_Huh?_ The pirate wasn't used to that kind of tone from guards who knew her by name. Usually, if she heard a guard saying her name, it was being shouted at her as she ran in the opposite direction.

The guard's tiny hands lifted up her helmet, and to Isabela's very great surprise the guardsman turned out to be an elf, and a female elf at that. In fact, she seemed vaguely familiar, maybe someone Hawke had helped out in the past? _Hmm... among elves that narrows it down to about a dozen people it could be..._

"Uh..." she started, then closed her mouth. The pirate just wasn't going to be able to remember who this was. _If only Hawke were here, she'd remember..._

"Lia," she smiled slightly, gesturing to herself. "You and Hawke saved me from that madman Kelder when I was fourteen."

_Oh, right, she was that naive little girl they'd found the ruins all those years ago._ "Lia!" she gasped, still trying to catch her breath. "What in the world are you doing here?"

Perhaps Isabela's tone was too intimidating because the elf stammered out her answer as though the pirate were Captain of the Guard or something, "I... I was worried about Hawke, but I didn't know where she was, so I decided to protect her house... from the looters, I mean." She gestured at the neighboring houses.

Isabela looked around, and it was only now that she noticed just how many of the buildings in this neighborhood had broken windows. But whether that was from looters, or from the nearby Chantry explosion, she wasn't sure.

Lia continued, staring at her feet as she spoke, "It isn't my shift, but the officer in charge of Hightown said it would be o.k. if I stood watch here tonight."

Blimy, this girl could give Merill some serious competition if anyone ever held a 'Cutest Elf in Kirkwall Contest'.

Isabela smirked, she wondered if the elf was was crushing on her woman. Well, if that were so, it wouldn't hurt to use that to her advantage just this once. It was in the name of a good cause, wasn't it? She thought about this idea for a second and as there were no objections from her conscience, she went with it. "Actually, listen Lia: Hawke and I are leaving town for a while," and just as she expected, a frown began to form on the girl's face at those words, "Would you like to help us with something?"

The young elf's smile instantly returned and she nodded eagerly.

_Yep, totally crushing_, she thought.

"Well then," Isabela continued as she slipped past Lia and approached the door. With a powerful kick it flew open. "Follow me!"

With a surprised looking young elven guardswoman on her tail, Isabela strode into Hawke's estate. However, she hadn't even passed through the foyer before a commanding voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Not one step closer!"

"Bodahn?" Isabela called back. She couldn't see anything in the great room up ahead. The only illumination in the mansion was being provided by the soft moonlight coming through the skylights.

It was enough to see exactly jack and shit.

"Go back to where you came from or I swear my boy will let you have it!"

Maker, she did _not_ have time for this. "Bodahn, it's..."

"Sandal? Fire at will!"

"Not enchantment!" The young dwarf yelled. A blindingly bright orange light lit up the next room.

"Shit! Hit the deck!" Isabela shouted as she pulled Lia down with her just as a fireball went sailing over their heads. "Bodahn, you fool, it's me! Isabela!" she cried out from the floor.

A long moment of silence followed. "...Messere?"

"_Yes_," Isabela replied wearily as she got back on her feet and brushed herself off. From the floor, Lia stared at her wide-eyed, and the pirate smiled back at her, offering her a hand.

The dwarf came rushing into the foyer holding a lamp. "Oh, messere! I do apologize. I thought that perhaps some marauders had come to help themselves to the lady's things."

"No. It's just me and my friend here. This is Lia, she's in the city guard."

Bodahn's face grew ashen when he saw the elf in her full Kirkwall guard armor. "S-s-sorry, messere. A case of mistaken identity, I assure you!"

In this better light, Lia's face seemed to have lost a bit of color too. "It's ok, ser dwarf," she said in what was practically a whisper. Isabela thought that Lia was really going to have to develop a more commanding guard voice if she ever wanted people to take her seriously.

The pirate strode passed the still apologizing dwarf and entered the great room. Bodahn followed and quickly went around lighting all the more accessible lamps as Isabela spoke. "Ok, listen up. Due to the situation with the templars, Hawke and I are leaving town. I want you to help me pack up all of her more important possessions." She loved barking out orders like this, it was just like the good old days. "Oh, and pack your things too," she added, "because you two are coming with us."

Bodahn looked lost in thought for a moment, he wasn't use to being given so many orders at once. "That's mighty kind of you, messere, but the boy and I have already made arrangements to leave for Orlais in three weeks time."

"Trust me, Bodahn, the two of you will be safer coming with us. We can drop you off in Denerim, or some other port, but it's much too dangerous to stay here."

The dwarf pondered this for a moment. He _had_ just heard the entire Chantry explode not that long ago... maybe _it would _be prudent to leave. "As you say, messere. Far be it from me to ignore the advice of the companion to the Champion." _ Pfft, she was more than a companion_, Isabela thought, though she kept it to herself. The dwarf clapped his hands together, "Sandal, pack our things! Oh... and apologize to the nice woman for nearly incinerating her."

Sandal looked up from the floor. He looked so miserable that Isabela wanted to laugh. "Sorry, nice lady."

Isabela grinned back at him. What was a little near incineration between friends? She would actually welcome the two dwarfs on board as the ship's pursers if they had any interest in becoming part of the crew, and if she wasn't afraid that Sandal would accidentally burn the ship down.

Before they could even begin packing, another familiar voice called her name, this one coming from the second floor.

The pirate spun on her heels. "Anders?" And sure enough, the renegade mage appeared at the top of the stairs, in all his feather coated glory.

Bodahn looked surprised and the pirate narrowed her eyes at the mage. Clearly, _he_ hadn't been invited in. _And just what is he doing in Hawke's bedroom anyway?_

"If any of Hawke's underwear is missing, I'm going to have to hurt you."

Anders face grew bright red. "W-what? No, I was just leaving her a note," he said, holding up a scrap of paper in his hand.

Isabela bounded up the stairs and deftly grabbed it from him.

"Hey!" he cried. He tried to grab the note back only to have the edge of Lia's sword at his throat.

"Anders," the pirate said absently while going over the note in her hands, "meet Lia." She gestured to the elf without bothering to look up.

The mage gulped. "Nice to meet you," he said weakly.

Lia squinted at him in response, keeping the sword at his neck. Still, the fact that Anders wasn't face down on the floor seemed to indicate to Isabela that the guardswoman had no idea that she had the man responsible for blowing up the Chantry at her mercy.

_Let's see_, she said to herself as she skimmed the letter...

"Whereas the mages will never have their freedom so long as the Chantry locks us up in Towers and uses the constant fear of death to keep us docile, we must use the powers the Maker gave us against those forces who seek to enslave us all. The Chantry must learn to fear our wrath, the thousands of mages that have died, and the thousands more made Tranquil demand justice...

Ugh... she turned the sheet over and the obsessive ranting went on and on, paragraph after mind numbing paragraph...

Blah blah blah, justice. Blah blah blah, vengeance. Then it closes with: "Blood can only be repaid in blood..."

_Maker! Why not just write, "Dear Hawke, I'm insane. Just thought you'd like to know! Signed, your friend, Anders."_

Isabela crumpled up the note and tossed it down the stairs.

"Hey - urrk!" the mage's objection was stifled by Lia, who reminded him where her sword was currently placed.

"Seriously, Anders. Why not just send her flowers or something? The last thing she wants is to read another one of your interminable manifestos..."

"Bu..." He stopped himself before Lia could silence him again.

"It's ok, Lia. Anders is a 'friend'." The air quotes Isabela made when she said the word didn't do much to convince the elf and she lowered her sword warily.

"Thank you," the mage said nervously. The pirate stared at him expectantly; it was getting very late and she was running low on patience. "Look, I just wanted Hawke to understa..."

"No," she cut him off firmly. "She is _not_ going to understand," Isabela added. "Hawke said she wanted nothing to do with you."

"But, I thought..."

"She allowed you to fight alongside us because it was the _smart_ thing to do." Indeed, the decision to allow Anders to tag along had been surprisingly pragmatic of her, considering how deeply betrayed Hawke must've felt at the time. "We needed all the help we could get. It doesn't mean she forgave you, or will ever forgive you." Isabela was also pretty sure that Aerin allowed Anders to come because the mage was a pro at whining. Giving in was the least violent and most expedient means of shutting him up.

The mage hung his head in shame.

The pirate sighed. "Look, maybe she will, maybe she won't, but if you want to try to get on her good side again, I have a plan. And if you do as I say you'll be helping the mages at the same time."

Anders stood up straight and looked as serious as Isabela had ever seen him. "Just tell me what I have to do."

* * *

><p>(The Next Morning at the Kirkwall docks)<p>

Isabela leaned against the port gunwale of her ship, dubbed the new _Siren's Call_, at least until she could come up with a better name for it. From this spot she had a commanding view of the pier, and practically every other dock in Kirkwall's harbor. This long abandoned dock was the most isolated and distant one from the city and because of that it was also the safest.

She had no desire to fight off any more templars.

Or blood mages.

She looked up and down the dock as she tried to spot the flash of red hair that would signal Aveline's return.

The pirate captain tapped the railing with a feeling of mild irritation. She was assuming a role that she had no idea how to play, and she was all but certain that she was going to manage to fuck it all up before it was over.

If only she could get drunk, but that certainly wouldn't increase her plan's chances of success. Thus, the canteen lying next to her on the gunwale was filled with nothing but boring old water.

She wished Hawke was awake. You could give Isabela a ship, half a dozen Orlesian frigates to fight, throw in some unfavorable wind conditions, and she would instinctively know how to proceed. Here, she was lost. All this sitting around was giving her far too much time to think.

With Kirkwall burning, and the possibility of a templar reprisal in the very near future, the old Isabela, the _smart_ Isabela (may she rest in peace), would have left port the second the crew was aboard and the stores were loaded. Even if Varric had his suspicions about the pirate's new found conscience, not even he would have expected Isabela to be sitting around with her thumb metaphorically up her ass.

Hell, even now they still couldn't believe it. Even after Isabela explained the logic of her plan to him for the third time this morning, Varric said he wasn't sure if the people in his future audience were going to believe that particular plot twist.

The audience hates it when the hero breaks character, he said.

_Well, sometimes doing the opposite of what's expected of you is the best course of action, _she remembered saying. _ Yeah, _she added to herself... _that's the excuse I'll go with if anyone else asks me why I'm still here._

And so, here it was, the morning after the destruction of Kirkwall's chantry, and the deaths of Orsino and Meredith, and here she was, on her ship, waiting for Aveline. Not because Aveline was joining them, _Maker forbid_, but rather because Lady Man-Hands and a few of her most trusted guards were on the lookout for any surviving mages.

Last night, after their run in with Anders, Isabela conjured a new plan out of thin air: she was going to take as many mage refugees with them as she could. And so that night, the city guard, along with Merrill and Anders, had managed to find fifteen mages who desired to leave the city. There was no doubt in her mind that this is exactly what Hawke would do if she were awake. But, and here was the truly bizarre thing, Hawke hadn't asked her to do any of this. As far as the pirate knew, Aerin was still asleep in Isabela's quarters, and had been since Aveline had carried her there last night.

It was maddening... she could leave port right now, and when Aerin finally woke up, she probably accept any excuse that the pirate chose to give her without digging too deep. Difficult situations can require desperate actions, after all. Yet here Isabela was, at the Kirkwall docks, waiting for mages... people she hadn't given a toss about when she woke up yesterday.

Merrill and Bethany excluded, of course.

And of course, Merrill and Bethany were close to Aerin. So maybe her actions last night weren't motivated purely by a noble desire to help the needy. Maybe she was doing it to score points with Hawke by impressing her sister.

Come to think of it, she was actually more comfortable with that idea than the alternative.

She wasn't even exactly sure where they would go once all the mages had been gathered. Heading west down the strait to Orlais was out of the question, and she shuddered to think of what would happen to them if she dropped them off in Antiva or Rivain. Most of the refugees were raised in the Tower. They'd probably get eaten alive in a place like Llomerryn.

Ferelden, and its mage friendly king, seemed to be the only logical choice.

Doubtless, King Alistair will not appreciate this mess being dropped on his doorstep. But, hey, what else were kings good for if not cleaning up other people's messes? That's what they got paid for.

Yeah, so, some plan... Isabela was used to crazy schemes that had a specific goal at the end. This one was seriously lacking in that aspect. The only real goal was 'don't disappoint Hawke'.

Sigh... and this _is_ what Hawke would do, Isabela was certain of it. Helping a handful of mages escape the wrath of the Chantry had just the right ring of futility to it. Hopefully, the woman would appreciate all that the pirate had done for her...

Maker, she was a pirate captain, and yet she was still whipped. And the sad thing was, Hawke wasn't even that scary. Not really, anyway. Sure, she waved her unnecessarily large sword around, and she killed a particularly large Qunari that one time, but whenever the pirate sparred with her it was always Isabela who came out on top.

Actually, that tended to happen a lot in other aspects of their relationship...

Except arguments, of course. Hawke _always_ won those.

A soft voice broke Isabela from her thoughts, "Good morning!"

"Morning, Lia," the pirate replied without looking behind her, and the young guardswoman joined her in leaning tiredly against the gunwale.

The elf had stayed with them all night, taking shifts with Fenris and the others to guard the ship. There were scarcely any templars left in the city after yesterday's events, but it didn't hurt to be cautious. Hawke had almost as many enemies as Isabela did.

The pirate smirked as Lia gave a drawn out yawn. Her hair looked a complete mess, and there were bags under her eyes. _Oh, the things we do for Hawke_, Isabela mused.

And she tried to fight it, but the five foot tall guard was hardly an imposing sight, even in all that armor, and eventually her resolve broke and she had to blurt it out, "You look a bit silly in that guard uniform, you know?"

Surprisingly, Lia just smiled softly as she kept watching the docks. "I know," she said softly. "But I want to help people. I want to be like Hawke."

The pirate nodded and muttered to herself, "Yeah. I know what you mean..."

The two sat there in companionable silence for a while, watching as dozens of ships were being hurriedly loaded with supplies. Evidently, every single ship in Kirkwall was being prepared to leave. The smoke that was still rising from Lowtown and the Gallows might have something to do with that. Isabela briefly wondered if the some dozen or so remaining templars had any fire-fighting experience.

Then the hatch popped open and Merrill stepped out, her eyes squinting from the bright mid-morning sun.

"Hi, Isabella!" Apparently, it was only then that she noticed the guardswoman standing next to her, "Oh, hi, Lia. It's nice to see you." The blood mage's face grew red, "Y-y-you aren't here about those apples I took, are you? I swear I didn't know they belonged to somebody!"

Lia laughed, ever since she met the woman she felt that Merrill was a little strange, but funny. "No, I just wanted to say goodbye to Hawke. I have to return to Lowtown for my next shift in just a bit," she said, before stifling a yawn.

"Oh... good. Good!" Merrill said nervously. Then she elected to change the subject, "Isabela! Thank you for allowing me to come along."

"Oh, Kitten, you're always welcome aboard our ship. You could even stay if you wanted to," she offered.

"Oh, no. I don't think so," the elf stammered, nervously scratching the back of her neck. "I don't like boats much, really."

The pirate smiled even as she winced internally at the elf's use of the word 'boat'. "This is a s_hip_, Kitten, not a boat," she said, solidly tapping the wooden gunwale for emphasis. "But it's all right, I won't take it personally."

The hatch opened again, and out stepped the Champion of Kirkwall herself, dressed in Isabela's robe, and despite a few remaining cuts and bruises, looking as beautiful as ever. The pirate gulped; hopefully Hawke was wearing something under that thing...

"Hawke!" Merrill called out at once, and before Isabela could even move, the elf sprinted forward and wrapped her arms around the surprised Champion, hugging her tight. Isabela shot a quick glance over at Lia, and yep, just the slightest hint of a scowl was forming on her lips.

_Totally jealous._

Isabela smiled at the tender scene, Merrill was such a cutie.

Then she realized just how unusually quiet it was aboard the ship.

A quick look around confirmed her assumptions: half the crew were eying her woman, and that fuzzy robe she was wearing. The pirate narrowed her eyes at Martin, standing over on the forecastle, who, when he finally took his eyes off of Hawke and noticed Isabela's growing irritation, gulped and started barking out orders to distract the men. And just as quickly the ship was again filled with the sounds of shouts, and stamping feet.

Not that the pirate would exactly _blame_ the crew for staring, they had eyes after all, but she might have to discipline them if the constant staring ever affected the smooth running of the ship.

Still, she wasn't jealous. If she was sure of anything in her life, it was that Hawke loved her.

"I'm so glad you're all right! How are you feeling?" the elf asked quickly, her words coming out muffled as she had her face buried in the woman's shoulder.

"I feel fine, Merrill." The Champion said, gently patting the elf's back. She looked up from the girl that was holding on to her so tightly. "Strangely refreshed, in fact," she added, and winked at Isabela.

The pirate winked back. Of course, she had only the purest intentions when she bathed Hawke last night. Those wounds _needed_ to be cleaned, or so she told Bethany.

"Oh, that's good then." Merrill replied dreamily, still clinging to the Champion and completely oblivious to the rest of the world.

Lia was looking increasingly displeased, so after a few more moments of this, Isabela coughed. Then all of a sudden Merrill's eyes widened, and she let go in a rush and stepped back hurriedly, her face red again.

"Sorry, sorry! I, um, should get down below, and check on the other mages," she stuttered. Merrill turned to go back to the hatch, but then she must have had a thought because she stood there for a moment and then stepped right up to Hawke again, "Thank you Hawke, for protecting all of us. I knew you would." And in a blink of an eye her lips were pressed against Aerin's, and just as quickly Merrill pulled back, looked at Isabela like a doe might look at a hungry wolf, and sprinted for the hatch.

_Oh, Maker! Was Merrill sweet on Hawke too?_

_And look at Lia, she's positively fuming!_

Hawke stood stock still with the cutest look of surprise on her face for a long moment, her eyes blinking as if she wasn't sure what just happened. Fortunately, Lia spoke up and dispelled the increasingly uncomfortable silence, "Um... Hi, Hawke. Do you remember me?"

The Champion relaxed a bit, though her face was still a bit pink. "Lia, right?" _Of course, she remembers her, _the pirate groused.

Lia nodded happily, like it meant the world to her that Hawke remembered her name.

"You're in the guard now?" Hawke asked.

Another nod. "I wanted to help others, like you helped me and my people."

A slight blush returned to the Champion's cheeks. "I'm sure you'll make me proud, Lia."

A big grin was plastered on the elf's face now. "I hope so," she said. And then, as if Isabela wasn't standing right there, Lia strode confidently up to Hawke, grabbed her by the back of the head, and planted a kiss on the Champion's lips, much more forcefully than Merrill had just done.

Isabela was gobsmacked, and so was Hawke by the look of things.

_I am not jealous, I am NOT jealous_, Isabela repeated to herself. But the kiss didn't end nearly as quickly as Merrill's had and it became too much for her. _Oh, sod it! _

Just as she was about to rip the girl off the woman, _her woman_, the elf broke the kiss on her own. Hawke looked like she had just seen a party of darkspawn run off with her underwear.

"Thank you, Hawke. For all you've done for us." And with that, Lia turned and strode confidently off the ship.

"I... huh?" Hawke's complexion was practically as red as a tomato by this point. Isabela forgot all about killing the elf, laughed and sauntered forward.

"You sure are popular aren't you?" She said seductively while wrapping her arms around the Champion in a tight hug. _Mmm... she missed this... How long had it been since they had a chance to be together without having the specter of death looming over them?_

Hawke's face still held that adorable look of confusion. Eventually she asked, "Is there some sort of elven tradition involving kissing that I don't know about?"

"Yes. I believe it's tradition for elves to kiss people that they have the hots for."

Hawke looked shocked. "You mean... Merrill _and_ Lia?"

The pirate pressed her nose against the woman's neck, _Aerin smelled sooo good_. "Both would like to mount you, it seems."

The Champion gulped. "They... _what_?"

_So eloquent... _"I think it's just adorable. Lia is quite attractive, don't you think?" In fact, the elf reminded her of that Grey Warden, Kallian; strong, independent, yet also very, very cute. Not entirely unlike a certain Aerin Hawke, in fact.

"Uh..." the warrior clearly didn't know how to safely answer Isabela's question.

"But you aren't allowed to play with her unless I'm with you," she added, her fingers kneading the back of Hawke's soft robe and the skin underneath.

"Wha...?"

_Oh, great, I broke her, _she thought. But there was a way to fix that. "Just don't ever forget," Isabela gently nudged Hawke's chin until they were face to face, "You're mine...", she added, with a hint of a growl to her voice. And then her lips were on the Champion's. It didn't take long for Isabela to make the woman forget all about what had just happened.

"Any questions?" she asked, when she was sure she had made her point.

"Can't think of any..." Aerin said breathlessly.

"Good." Another kiss, on the neck this time.

Aerin was practically purring at this point, "You know, I like it when you get all possessive."

"And I like it when you get all compliant," the pirate retorted. "This is all your fault, you know. I never use to get like this before." Isabela chuckled. _Not with people, anyway_, she mentally added. _Tomes of Koslun, on the other hand..._

The couple stood there, sharing a silent moment. Martin was still barking orders to the crew, keeping them occupied, but aside from that it was unusually quiet on the ship.

"Thanks, by the way. I don't really remember much from last night, like how I got here, or how I got so clean. Although, I do have an idea about the latter."

The small acknowledgment warmed her heart. "Well, it was my turn to take care of you. So, that's what I did."

"Mmm... that was kind of you."

"What can I say, I have a weakness for half-insane, self-sacrificing Champions of Kirkwall with apparent death wishes."

"Mmmhmm..." Hawke breathed. They stood there entwined together for a while longer before she changed the subject, "So, have you decided on what position I will occupy on this ship?"

Isabela chuckled slightly, "Oh, I can think of several positions I would like to have you in right now."

It was Hawke's turn to laugh, but Isabela pulled back from her slightly. The sooner she cleared the air, the sooner they could get to the good stuff, so to speak. "I've thought about this a lot, Hawke, and I want to teach you everything there is to know about the art of sailing and captaining a ship."

Aerin smirked. "It may be a hopeless task, you know. Remember when we were sailing to the Gallows yesterday? I hit my head on one of those horizontal mast thingies..."

The pirate grimaced slightly, it always irked her when Hawke called a part of a ship by the wrong name, "It's called a spar, and you were supposed to duck when I called out 'jibe ho!', remember?"

The Champion frowned as she rubbed her head, "Um... no, I don't actually."

"Don't worry about it," she said, rubbing the spot where the spar connected to Hawke's remarkably resilient skull. "I'll be giving you my personal hands on instruction." Aerin smirked at the double meaning of those words, and the pirate was pleased that her nervousness didn't seem to be showing. She was just getting to the difficult part. With a heavy heart she continued, "I want you to be able to sail this ship. When I'm done with you, you'll be the second greatest captain Thedas have ever known," she finished with a wink.

"Hah," Hawke said, rolling her eyes. "Would that make me your First _Mate_, then?" the Champion giggled.

Isabela almost laughed at that one, but she needed to say this before she lost her nerve. So instead, she finally blurted out her plan, "No. I would step down... as Captain, I mean. You would take over."

The pirate let her arms drop and Hawke stepped back, a unexpectedly shocked look on her face. "What? Why?"

Isabela turned away to look out at the harbor again. As long as she was here, on the sea with Hawke, it wouldn't matter to her who was in charge. "You always do the right thing, Hawke. I'm... I'm just not good at it, all right?" she finally said in anger, though the anger was directed at herself. She remembered how she had argued for Aerin to spare Castillion's life, despite the fact that was a slaver. Just because she wanted him to go around and tell all of Antiva how she had bested him.

It was stupid, and Isabela was stupid for even suggesting it.

Of course, Hawke ignored her and killed the man. They hadn't really spoken about it since that day, but she knew it was just another example of her inability to make proper moral decisions. "I'll fuck something up, and you'll hate me for it."

Isabela opened her mouth to continue, but Hawke silenced her with a finger to her lips. "I won't take your ship from you, Isabela. I told you before; I have no intention of changing you. I love you for who you are."

The pirate lowered her head, Aerin couldn't possible mean all of that, "But you deserve better than what I am. And I don't know how to be good enough for you."

"We've had this discussion already, Bela. You are good enough for me, you returned the book of Koslun, remember?"

"I only did that because of you!"

"That doesn't exactly invalidate my point, you know?"

The pirate grumbled. "Shut up..."

Hawke ignored that. "And the mages?" she asked.

"Mages?"

"You have eighteen mages smuggled aboard this ship. Why?"

_Oh, she found out about that already, did she? Bah... of course she did, _the pirate thought a little bitterly. "It was... the right thing to do," she admitted, finally. "It's what _you_ would do."

Hawke shrugged. "I don't know. But the fact is you did it without asking me."

"I... yeah... I guess I did."

"And you gave twenty sovereigns to Orana," Hawke added, and Isabela's eyes widened. "Bodahn told me when I woke up."

"Oh..." _Right... Well, it's not like I could just leave her there in Kirkwall with nothing...  
><em>

"And while we're on that subject, you brought Bodahn and Sandal with you."

"It... it wasn't safe to leave them at your place," the pirate admitted.

"Give it up, Isabela... You know I'm right," Hawke said with a knowing smile. "Face it. You're a better person than you want to believe you are."

"..." _ Fuck_, she thought. Couldn't she win even one argument with this woman?

"Isabela, I want you to command this ship."

The pirate was bewildered, to say the least. She was handing Hawke the leadership role, a role the Champion had played effortlessly for the past six years, so why wasn't she taking it? Was she having second thoughts?

"You're not planning on leaving, are you?" Isabela hated how the fear crept into her voice, but she needed to know. She could feel those fingers around her heart.

Hawke smiled, and softly grabbed the pirate's hand, tracing light circles on it with her thumb. "Never," she said seriously.

Isabela looked up through her lashes, she felt like some love starved twit, but strangely it didn't bother her. "Never?"

Hawke's fingers were back around her neck, caressing the soft flesh. "I promise. I've been dreaming about this day ever since you got your ship, for longer than that, actually. I want to see my pirate queen in command, shouting out orders over the crash of the waves, her hair whipping in the salty breeze, showing the world why she is called the terror of the Eastern Seas."

Isabela was relieved beyond measure, she felt free, like she could take on all of Thedas with just this ship and Aerin Hawke by her side, and who knows, maybe they would do just that. "But what about my dreams?" she asked teasingly, now that the air was cleared. "You're so very... _tempting_ when you take charge of a situation."

"Well, I'll still be here, as your First... _Mate_?"

_True enough, being the second in command of a ship would still give Hawke plenty of opportunities to order men around. But 'Mate'? Seriously? Was the word really that funny? Did this woman have the sense of humor of a twelve year old boy or something? _Isabela rolled her eyes, "Not if you're going to giggle like a schoolgirl every time I call you by rank."

Aerin smiled. "Are my terrible jokes going to be problem then?"

_Maybe_, the pirate thought, only half-seriously. "If it gets out of hand, I suppose I can always put you to work manning the bilge pumps," she joked.

They both laughed. "Well, whatever role I end up filling, you can always consult with me whenever you wish."

"Hmm... I suppose that's true."

Aerin was back to nuzzling Isabela's neck. "Or, if you like, we could divide it up like this: on land, I'm in charge. On sea, you are. How does that arrangement strike you?"

"Mmm... I think I could live with that." Indeed, that sounded ideal, particularly since they would be spending most of their time at sea.

Hawke sighed with pleasure as she breathed in Isabela's scent. "Then consider it done."

"And since our bed is in my quarters, and my quarters are on this ship, does that mean I'll be in charge in the bedroom?"

Hawke laughed. "Isn't that how it usually works out?"

The pirate snorted at that. _Damn right!_

The minutes rolled by, and Hawke gradually took position behind Isabela, running her hands over the pirate's neck and shoulders, and without even thinking about it the pirate found herself pushing her head back in order to increase the stimulation. She felt like she must be dreaming, she had her ship, and she had Hawke. They were leaving Kirkwall.

Life was perfect.

"Imagine what people will say when they find out where I've gone to."

"Hmm?" _Did someone say something?_ Those hands, coupled with Hawke's breath tickling her neck, were incredibly distracting...

"Well, here I am, the Champion of Kirkwall, taking up a life on the sea with a beautiful pirate captain. I doubt anyone in the city would have seen _that_ coming."

The pirate nodded, "With Meredith dead, the nobility would've handed you the position of viscount for certain. Even with the templar reinforcements coming."

"And yet, here I am... with you."

Isabela blushed slightly. "What are you getting at?"

"Well, Varric will tell our story in every tavern in Thedas, right?"

"Yes. I suppose he will…" _For the free drinks, if nothing else, _she reasoned.

"Imagine the kind of embellishments he'll add!" The pleasant sensation of Hawke's hands suddenly left her neck, and Isabela turned and watched in bewilderment as the Champion of Kirkwall got on her knees, puffed out her chest, and broke into what was a barely passable imitation of the dwarf's voice, "No shit, there I was on the pier, right? The city burning all around me, citizens running for their lives, and with my own eyes I watched as the Siren's Call left the harbor. And can you believe it? Just as the ship was about to disappear behind the cliffs, I saw Isabela leading the Champion of Kirkwall herself through the hatch."

And then Hawke switched to another voice that the pirate couldn't identify, "But ser dwarf, what's surprising about that? You said that the pirate confessed her undying love to the Champion and that the two decided to sail away together once the battle was over." Isabela's eyes narrowed at the "undying love" comment, even if it was kind of true.

Back to the Varric impersonation, "Indeed I did, son. Perhaps I forgot to mention that the Champion had a collar around her neck and Ravaini was leading her by a leash!"

Isabela nearly choked and knocked her canteen into the harbor.

Hawke was back on her feet in an instant and patted the pirate's back patiently until she stopped coughing.

Then, once Isabela was back to glaring at her, Aerin continued her Varric impersonation, minus the part where she dropped to her knees; clearly she was on a roll. "I shit you not! I heard from a trusted friend in Denerim that the treacherous pirate queen had chained our poor hero to her bed. Imagine that!" Hawke added in a sadder tone of voice, "Our poor Champion, slayer of the Arishok, forced to satisfy every lusty and debauched desire of the Terror of the Eastern Seas!" Hawke finished with a knowing glint in her eyes.

It took a minute for the pirate to stop laughing. When she finally calmed down, she pulled Hawke to her until they were nose to nose.

"I _was_ thinking of tying you down tonight," Isabela whispered as she moved to nuzzle the Champion's ear. "But now you've gone and given me a whole host of new ideas."

"Well, I'm at your mercy, my Captain," Aerin whispered, her eyelids heavy from the tone of Isabela's voice.

"Then I order you to my quarters," the pirate said seriously. "I believe it's time to conduct your officer evaluation," she added, while directing Hawke to her cabin with a hand on the woman's back.

And just as the two were about to step through the hatch, they were stopped by Varric's gruff laugh. "A leash? Nice one, Hawke! I just might use that!"

* * *

><p>AN – The preceding story was not beta'd, and all grammar, spelling, and lore related mistakes are my own. Also, the very end of Anders' note about vengeance was taken from Dragon Age I.<p>

Again, this was my first fanfic. Hopefully, it wasn't so god awful that reading it sucked the joy of living right out of you. If it did in fact make you question your reason for living, all I can say is, " :( "


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